Idiot
by CompletelyDone
Summary: "Of course this wasn't going to go well. She was who she was, and he was infinitely more, and he probably shouldn't have even agreed to be here today, but here he sat looking perfect in a pressed blue shirt—oh dear stars, she was positively starting to hyperventilate." One-Shot.


Rose was an idiot, and there was no avoiding it. Not when she was sitting in The Three Broomsticks drawing lines in the condensation of her butterbeer glass and feeling as though she'd forgotten the English language altogether.

She was an idiot. Pure and simple.

To top it all off, she had no one to blame but herself. After all, she actioned this horrid idea into motion in the first place. She opened her fat gob and made this happen.

Idiot.

Of course this wasn't going to go well. She was who she was, and he was infinitely more, and he probably shouldn't have even agreed to be here today, but here he sat looking perfect in a pressed blue shirt—oh dear stars, she was positively starting to hyperventilate.

"I'm sorry," she spoke rather hastily. "I think this was a mistake." Not bothering with the complexities of dawning her coat's arms or assembling its buttons, Rose pushed out the front door rather quickly. To her relief, the prick of early March sleet quenched her burning cheeks. The frigid wind and her quick steps propelled her hair horizontally; Rose had half a mind to tie her curls back, but a desolate part of her knew she could soon use the pain of brushing out her snarls to hide purely emotional tears.

Cursing her ill-derived hopes, Rose frowned at the monstrous mud puddles in her path, knowing they were somehow mocking her terrible day. Not that she needed any reminder. She felt sure this day would plague her for all eternity.

Rose laughed bitingly as she considered the enormity of her mistake. Not only had she presumptuously invited someone to Hogsmeade, but she had somehow forgotten that the _someone_ was exceedingly brilliant and the very antithesis of Rose herself.

The Head Boy. Honestly. What an idiot Rose was.

On the other hand, no sane person—let alone an _exceptional _person—would agree to spend a romantically-inclined afternoon with a girl who had too large a penchant for drawing star charts in the dark and too little sense in everyday life.

Maybe he wasn't sane. That might explain why he'd agreed to a date. He wouldn't be the first intelligent man to lose all rational thought when it came to the fairer sex. Though Rose hardly thought herself _fair_ in comparison to him; he looked like a bloody Renaissance painting with his flawless blonde tresses, eyes the palest blue, and cheekbones that could cut straight through a maiden's heart.

He'd certainly cut through her heart easily enough. Admittedly, the cutting had nothing to do with his cheekbones and everything to do with the comradeship they had formed as Charms partners these two years and his amused smiles as she postulated why Venus and Mercury had no moons.

They had been friends, and Rose had ruined it as thoroughly as possible.

There would be no returning to friendship from here, Rose knew. Not only was it impossible for Rose to contemplate spending _platonic friend time_ with him—especially given the increasing frequency of her racy dreams about him—but no friendship could survive the _horrendous _Hogsmeade date they'd shared today. So, that was it. This marked the end of their acquaintance and the end of her romantic interest in—

"Rose!"

Breaking from her thoughts, Rose pivoted on the heel of her slippery loafer. Only as she landed arse-first in the wet grass on the hillside did she realize she had been walking straight through the mud since her Hogsmeade departure. _Of course she had_, she considered darkly, because Rose Weasley was an idiot more prone to internal monologues and distracting herself than she was to being practical and acting like a blasted normal human being.

And Helga-forbid she do anything that wasn't distinctly embarrassing in front of Scorpius Malfoy today.

"Are you hurt?" Scorpius directed his question down as he stood above her with a proffered hand.

Frowning at his _immaculate_ dress shoes and navy trousers, Rose ignored his offered assistance and pushed herself off of the hillside. "No. Thank you," she stated, dearly hoping to escape from him and the damned attractive furl of his brow. A girl could only take so much in one day, and she had hit her limit as soon as she had stepped out of Hogwarts at two.

She held her breath as he looked her up and down, eyes stopping to lock on hers. "Are you okay?"

_Yes_, she tried to grate out, but the word died on her tongue. Dropping her eyes, she stared hatefully at the mud beneath her fingernails. "No. Not really," she managed a moment later in a small voice that was very unlike her own. Scorpius began to step toward her, but Rose held out a hand between them. "I'm sorry I invited you today."

Balking, Scorpius rolled his shoulders. "Why?"

"Why?" she asked incredulously. "Well for one, I'm fairly certain you only agreed to come because you're much too kind. You probably wouldn't turn anyone down. Let alone someone who you're kind of friends with. Especially when you have to continue to work with me in Charms for the next three months and we have that big project coming up—"

"Rose."

"And it would ruin our professional relationship—and certainly our project—if you had rejected me, so of course you had to say yes. Which was so kind of you, really. But you didn't need to waste your valuable Saturday to be here with _me_ and have the worst time ever—"

"Rose."

"Because it has been, hasn't it? The worst time ever. There is no other way to describe it. I mean, I fell in the mud _twice_, knocked over the window display in Zonko's, dragged you into a pet store only to find that you're allergic to cats, ate a Puking Pastille even though I _know_ Louis has never given me real chocolate in his life, order you the wrong drink, and then I can't think of anything to talk about! I'm a mess. So I'm sorry I invited you here today, and I'm sorry—"

"Rose!" Scorpius gripped her by the shoulders, his warm hands reminding her of the coat she'd left in the mud beneath her. Chest heaving, Scorpius held her in place, eyes darting around her face.

When his pale blue gaze rested on her mouth, Rose did what her frazzled emotions and indecent daydreams demanded of her. She gripped the collar of his coat and raised herself up to meet his lips with her own.

Rather, she would have done that, had she not grossly misjudged the distance between them and smashed her nose into his chin before even reaching the general vicinity of his mouth.

Clutching her nose, she recoiled as quickly as possible, reached down between them to hoist up her coat, and hurried up the hill with a sob.

Idiot.

"Rose!" she heard him cry behind her.

It was no matter; his shouts were useless. She would not stop even to see all the stars in the sky, and she would never _ever_ speak with him again for fear of reliving her horrific embarrassment. Tears spilled onto her cheeks and hand as she fought humiliation and the blinding pain blossoming between her eyes.

"Would you stop running away for one moment!" Rose heard Scorpius' voice much nearer now, and she jumped as he overtook her in long strides and stopped in front of her.

Try as she might to regain her flight response, Rose had lost all of her energy and only managed to stand there with eyes shut tight in effort to force her tears back in.

Warm fingers touched her wrist, prodding her hand away from her face. "Just let me take a look," Scorpius spoke gently. Rose allowed her hand to move, but she didn't dare open her eyes to him. "There is no blood, and it doesn't look broken. Does it hurt very much?"

He must have been standing very close, for Rose could feel his warm breaths wash over her forehead in a delightfully flustering manner. She shook her head silently.

Silence stood as their companion for a few moments. Rose only knew Scorpius was still beside her because his fingers had circled about her wrist and held her in place. "You know," he cleared his throat, "I was over the moon when you invited me here today. I know, I just stood there like a proper dunce when you asked, but I didn't know how to tell you how excited I was." Sighing, he dropped her hand.

Rose peeked out from her left eyelid, vision blurry from tears, to see him chewing his lip. The action appeared nervous on him and was very out of place on his features.

"Rose, I think you're brilliant. You're so passionate and straightforward, and I'm—well, I'm _not_. I do what's expected of me and I clearly can't articulate my thoughts as well as you can, but I won't give up on this. Us, I mean. I think it could be amazing."

Us. The word shot straight to Rose's heart. There was an _us_? They could be a _them_? Eyes sprouting open, she searched his face, her discomfiture forgotten.

Now there was a blatantly nervous look about Scorpius' shifty smile and wringing hands. "So. What do you think?"

"Are you sure?" she croaked, mouth suddenly dry. "Even after I made this the worst date ever?"

He nodded, shoulders postured as if he were gaining some confidence in himself. "I'm going to fix that, anyway. Don't move."

Before she was able to inform him that there was no _fixing_ the mess she made, his fingers slid beneath her jaw. The sleet on her cheeks and the smell of pumpkin juice on his breath nearly overwhelmed Rose. She longed to leap forward and was only reminded of self-restraint by the dull throb of her nose. Heart racing, Rose stood very still as he stepped closer and ducked his head forward. As his lips met hers in a dizzying, trembling kiss, Rose found herself likeminded with Scorpius; they could—no, they _would_—be amazing. She reached up a hand between them to grasp his arm and lean toward their shared hopes for the future. Pushing herself up onto her toes, she—

"Ay!" she pulled back suddenly, having brushed her nose against his while moving closer. "On second thought," she folded her nose between her fingers and palm, "My nose does hurt very much, and I think it may be broken."

His laugh made her chest soar. "Alright, then. Let's get you into the Hospital Wing." Taking her coat, he led her up the brown grass hill with a palm flat on the small of her back. "I suspect this will be the first of many trips there together, don't you?"

* * *

**Happy holidays, all! Wishing you and yours the very best wherever you are.**

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**All my best,**

**CompletelyDone**


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